The Past Is Forever
by songsofcerulean
Summary: Maybe she doesn't understand; or maybe the world is simply mistaken into thinking its the one that knows...
1. Part I

A/N: High school is being a little stressful now, so the parts I haven't written may take a couple days to get up here, but keep checking back. Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed, all I have is my pride and my sword. So, please don't sue me and please don't steal the characters that do belong to me (the girl, in this part).  
  
The Past Is Forever  
  
She will always see it. The long white box. It was shiny, and glistened in the little bit of light that worked its way through the thick, gray clouds. She looked around; and it was as if people were trying to even out the bright whiteness of the box by wearing dark clothes. Mostly all black. If it was night, all you would have been able to see of the people was their long faces and the glittering of tears. Rain fell on the big white box and made it glitter even more to match the wetness of the people's faces.  
  
Why were all these people crying? And where was daddy? Her aunts had said that he would be here, but although they never lied to her, she still doubted their sincerity. They had told her that mommy would be there; but she wouldn't see her. She had asked why, but received no answer. Where was daddy? In all these tall people she would never see him if he was too far away.  
  
People kept looking at her funny. They had so much pity in their eyes that it hurt. It stung inside. They knew something she didn't. They knew something. They knew. As she made her way through all the people she kept looking for him. Daddy would be here. Daddy would always be here. So where was he? Couldn't he know that she needed him? All these people were staring at her. Why were they doing that? She turned her head and realized she was standing next to the white box. What was in it?  
  
She looked closely at one of the silver handles and saw a faint shape etched into it. A circle with three petal shapes through it. She knew that symbol. It was on the front of the big book. It was on her locket, too. The one she'd gotten for her birthday. Mommy'd given it to her at night. She had said it was on the minute she was born, exactly five years ago. The little girl fingered the quarter-sized piece of sterling silver that hung around her neck on a braided silver chain. She reached out to touch the handle of the box, but stopped when a familiar movement to her left caught her eye.  
  
A tall man in a black suit was standing there. Watching her intently, but not like the others were. The others were practically staring at her. He was simply watching her; as if contemplating her future, or maybe it was his future he was thinking of. There was no way to tell. She took her hand out of its suspended place in the air and started to walk over to him. Then suddenly decided it was taking too long to get there and ran. The tall man kneeled down and scooped her up in his arms when she got close enough.  
  
"Daddy!" she said quietly, hugging him tightly.  
  
"Hey, Angel," he said holding her close, "sorry I'm late. How are you doing?" He got her to loosen her grip slightly and she pulled back enough to look into his eyes.  
  
"Okay. Where were you?" She looked inquisitively at him through her intense blue eyes.  
  
"It just took me a little while longer to get here than I thought it would," he replied, trying desperately to dodge the question; after all, how persistent could his five-and-a-half year old be? "Where are your aunts?"  
  
The girl looked around and silently shrugged. "I don't know," the girl paused and looked at her daddy again. "Where were you, Daddy? I was scared."  
  
The man couldn't help but shift his gaze to the solemnly crowded graveside. He had temporarily forgotten that his daughter was exactly like her mother. Exactly like her mother was. Used to be.  
  
"Daddy?" His gaze shifted back to the little girl in his arms and he saw her mother again. The same worried look painted on his daughter's face that must have been on her mother's a thousand times. He started to remember what had happened as his wondering eyes stared at the coffin again. "Daddy!?" He snapped back to reality as soon as his little girl shook him a bit.  
  
"What is it?" he asked while trying to keep his voice even.  
  
"Daddy, can you tell me something?" she asked wearily; knowing that if no one else would answer her question that her daddy would. He would never lie to her. He'd always be there. He'd never leave, and he'd always, always tell her the truth.  
  
"Anything."  
  
She took a deep breath, "Where's mommy?" she blurted out.  
  
The man was so taken aback by this that he nearly dropped his only daughter. His heart had been ripped in half already, and when he heard her words, his heart simply turned to glass and shattered. Oh, God, he thought, she didn't understand, she didn't know what all this was about. She didn't know that her mommy was gone and would never be coming back, she didn't know what was in the box. No one had sat down and explained it to her. Everyone had just expected her to know what this was. Then it dawned on him. Exactly how innocent she was. Exactly how much in life she still had to learn. And it cut him like a knife when he realized how much pain she would go through having to learn it, being so young. 


	2. Part II

The heartache came, hit like a hurricane. The only difference now was that the pain was now a dull roar, contrary to the seemingly ever-lasting stab of pure depression. He was now sitting on the side of the bed where his daughter lay sleeping as peacefully as possible.  
  
There was no way in the world, in any reality, that this was easy. He knew that there would be more questions in the morning. That there would be so many more things that she would fail to understand. In the morning, his little angel would wake up and there would be just one moment where she wouldn't remember.  
  
They had stayed through the last part of the service, which was just people shaking hands and offering their condolences. All meaningless. After that it was getting late, and the little girl was still wondering where her mommy was. Daddy had promised to tell her once they got home. No, not home, the manor. He said she'd have to stay there tonight. He never said why. The ride there seemed to drag on forever but in reality only took ten minutes.  
  
He held her hand while they walked up the steps to the front door of the big house. He held her hand as they walked up the stairs to the bedroom she'd be in tonight. It was her mother's old bedroom. But it was different now. After all, it was now just a guest bedroom. Just another playroom. He looked over toward the window seat that was now furnished with an array of different toys; instead of the usual pillows that had always been there. The pictures on the dresser had changed to that of his niece and her family. He came out of his reminisce when his daughter warily informed him that she wanted to go home.  
  
"You can't, Angel. You have to stay here tonight," he paused as he saw the pouty expression that appeared on her face, "It'll be all right," he informed her.  
  
"But, Daddy, I wanna go home. I wanna see mommy."  
  
He let out a deep sigh that was the only thing that penetrated the silence. "Honey, that's not possible," he said while trying to be as gentle as he possibly could be.  
  
"Why?"  
  
That was her favorite question. The one that she could ask with such delicacy that it could make your heart melt. He tried to start explaining about three different ways. He finally decided to tell her the truth with as much cushioning as he could possibly put underneath it. "Mommy's not coming back, Sweetheart." He knew that he was just setting himself up for another 'why', so he decided to continue before she could say another word. "Mommy died, Honey."  
  
She looked at him with a confused and hurt look. "Uh-uh. Mommy can't die. She's a Charmed One. She can't leave. Who'd protect all the innocents?" She said these words with such pride and determination that it almost made him cry. She had seen it. She'd seen what happened to her mother. Her aunts had said she'd seen it. Why didn't she remember? Why couldn't she remember? Denying it would just make it worse for her. It would make it worse for him. She either didn't accept it, or had unconsciously blocked it out. But, then again, he didn't accept it either. If it was hard for him to accept, let alone acknowledge, then it would be even harder for a five-year-old with no experience in the world.  
  
He sat there, and looked at her crystal clear eyes, wanting everything in the world to go back to normal. He wanted his wife back. He'd tried to save her, tried to warn her. Failing at that task gave him a scar that he was sure he'd have forever. There was nothing to heal him. Nothing he could do to protect his beloved wife. He'd been the main reason that she'd died in the first place.  
  
A silent voice flashed in the back of his head with a near deadly thought. What if he was the reason his daughter would get hurt? He wouldn't be able to handle that. The pain and heartache were already too much. Losing his wife was bad enough, explaining it to his daughter made it even worse. He would die if he lost the little angel sitting in front of him. What if he failed in protecting her, too? All of these thoughts went through his head as he told his little girl what had happened to her mommy. Tears rolled down her cheeks as he held her close and whispered that everything would be all right. He mainly said it to convince himself as well as her.  
  
TBC... 


	3. Part III

She sat silently as the waves crashed noisily against the rocks below. The ocean stretched on before her forever and seemed to end suddenly with the last bit of light that peeked over the edge of the world. The wind swirled around her in a circular motion, causing her hair to swish around her face, and then the air current seemed to dissipate as a ripple distorted the girl's vision and the last bit of light from the earth's star disappeared behind the horizon.  
  
The ripple that had been haunting her eyes finally caused her to blink, much against her will, and a tear fell softly down her cheek and landed soundlessly on the palm of her hand. She stared down at the water in her hand and then to the massive ocean waves that collided with the cliff below.  
  
Closing her hand over the tear, the girl stood, her eyes never wavering from the ocean below. Letting out her breath, the girl closed her eyes -- and fell.  
  
****************************  
  
~What did you see?~ the voice asked slowly.  
  
She breathed in and whispered, "nothing of importance to you."  
  
~Everything is of importance to me.~  
  
"Not this," she softly replied. She took another sip of her coffee and watched out the massive windows as people hurriedly passed, trying to catch up with their hurried lives.  
  
~Do you believe that?~  
  
"Does it matter?" Apparently she asked it a little too loudly, because a woman in one of the aisles of stacks glanced her way, an annoyed look on her face. "Sorry," the girl mouthed, and pretended to go back to reading the book in front of her. Again, she looked out the window and watched as all the people on the street below scurried around the town like too many mice in a cage.  
  
~It must matter to you if you will not tell me.~  
  
The girl let out a short breath and turned the page of her book. "Don't assume things."  
  
~Is my assumption correct?~  
  
There was a slight hollow noise as the girl let her head drop to the table. She sighed, then lifted her head up suddenly, as if she had heard something.  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
"She's here somewhere, just be patient."  
  
The girl's body stiffened. ~Move.~ She would have done so, but she was frozen. ~Now!~ The teen grabbed her book bag, shoved her book in it, and slung it over her shoulder.  
  
"Where are they?" she whispered.  
  
~To the south.~ The girl grabbed her coffee mug and started moving to the east stairwell. Making sure to not move quickly, so as to not draw attention to herself, she approached the stairs and stopped short as a man walked up the stairway and glanced around.  
  
"Oh, damn." She said that more to herself than to the voice, but it still heard her. She turned around slowly and walked into one of the stacks. The man's shoes made a distinct sound that seemed to approach her.  
  
~Move south.~ The girl was about to protest, but she heard a sharp, ~do it!~  
  
She started walking through the massive shelves to the south and passed two other men in one of the gaps between stacks and simply kept moving. Her easy-going stride turned into a brisk walk as she entered another gap and switched her position between shelves.  
  
"Hey, you!"  
  
The walk became a run as the south stairwell came into sight. She practically flew down the stairs and past a security guard when she heard a voice yell, "stop her!"  
  
Since this wasn't the main entrance to the building, she got past the front with few people in her way and ran out the door and around the corner.  
  
The man who had come up the stairs and the security guard burst out the doors and looked around, expecting to see the girl who had attempted to evade them. A sharp curse came from the man and he then order the security guard to go back inside to see if "the brat" was still inside.  
  
Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, the girl kept herself plastered to the side of the dumpster across the street in the alley and waited for the man to leave. The only problem was: he didn't. The two other men that had been in the building came out and joined him. He sent one east and one west; each of the men jogging, looking for any sign of the girl.  
  
The man himself crossed the street, standing right out side the alley that the teenage girl was hiding in. She listened intently as the sound of the man's shoes against the grungy ground approached her hiding place. 


	4. Part IV

A/N: Ack! Over a month since an update! School must be tougher than I think. Oh, well, deal with that later. Read and enjoy!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The footsteps stopped a few yards away from where the girl crouched. She closed her eyes and thought, "Oh, please don't find me!"  
  
The sound of steps started again, slow and sure. They seemed to get impossibly close to her and then stopped suddenly at the sound of beeping. She heard the man mutter and a sharp clip as the man took something off his belt.  
  
The teen took a breath. A pager. She had been saved by a pager.  
  
As the man called someone and muttered under his breath, the realized that from her crouched position her legs had started to fall asleep. She listened intently to what the man was doing and slowly shifted her weight, hoping that the broken glass under her feet wouldn't make a sound against the rough, uncared for pavement.  
  
She froze again when the man ended his conversation with a sharp, "report back to me later."  
  
She stayed perfectly still as the man took a few strides over to the other side of the dumpster and slammed the lid open suddenly.  
  
She clinched her hands into fists. "Oh, Gods, he knows I'm here," she thought. "Please, just let him leave."  
  
The man slammed the lid shut and started to walk out of the alleyway. The echoing of footsteps died away, but she dared not stick her head around the corner to check if he was really gone. She might have thought that he had left, except for the fact that she could sense him. He was standing there, waiting. The feel of him in the back of her mind died away as the man turned and walked away.  
  
*************************  
  
She looked down at the dark, empty alley. The run and hide game had ended hours ago, but for some reason, here she was; standing on the top of a eight-story building, staring down at the place where one of her nightmares had become real just hours before. The only difference between what happened in this reality and that dream world? It hadn't ended the same.  
  
"He'll be coming back," she said aloud to no one, expecting an answer.  
  
But no reply came. No silent voice in her head, no mystical man invading her mind with thoughts of prophecies and dreams long past. The reply of silence was the only thing that greeted her ears.  
  
She smiled slightly. "Finally," she thought, "silence."  
  
The voice hadn't been entering her thoughts for long, but it had never left a statement, silent or spoken, like hers unanswered in quite some time.  
  
The silence was deafening.  
  
************************  
  
He watched as the prophet lighted a few more candles and carefully placed each into its own holder.  
  
"Why do you not answer her?"  
  
The prophet turned, and slowly acknowledged the existence of his only visitor. "You need to learn, boy," he paused and took a ragged breath from beneath his concealing hood, "that there are some things that she needs to do on her own."  
  
"She's just a kid right now." He shook his head. "I think this has happened to fast. She shouldn't be faced with this right now!"  
  
The prophet let out a sigh and shook his head slowly. "She is fifteen. Whether or not you believe she can handle these things at this point in her life is not for you to decide."  
  
"And who is supposed to decide?"  
  
There was a long pause. "Defiance, boy. You are just as defiant as she."  
  
The man clinched his jaw. "I do not believe that this is the right time in her life to be faced with-him!"  
  
"Hmm, yes." The prophet moved painfully to a small alter on the opposite wall of the cavern. "Nevertheless, that is your belief. It is not for you to decide if she is faced with her heritage, or not." 


End file.
